


Punch The Clock

by wackyjacqs



Series: Bizarre Holidays [27]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 19:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17566991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackyjacqs/pseuds/wackyjacqs
Summary: Jack sighed. As it turned out – and despite what his former team might have told him – being 'The Man' definitely had more cons than pros attached to it.





	Punch The Clock

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ‘Punch The Clock Day’ on 27 January which is “a day dedicated to working for ‘The Man’”. Set during season 8 – pre-Affinity.

"Have a good evening, General."

"You too, Sergeant," Jack replied as he handed the sign-out sheet back to the young officer and waited on the elevator.

Dressed in slacks and a long-sleeved round neck jumper, he hooked a finger into the label of his leather jacket and slung it over his shoulder. As outward appearances went, Jack was ever the professional and remained calm. Inside, however, he was jumping for joy at the fact that he was finally able to leave the base on time – for the first time – since he took over from Hammond four weeks ago.

As it turned out – and despite what his former team might have told him – being 'The Man' definitely had more cons than pros attached to it. Therefore, he was determined, for once, to make it out of Cheyenne Mountain at a normal hour, go home, have a couple of beers and catch up with The Simpsons before he completely lost his mind.

"General O'Neill!"

He sighed heavily.

He'd been so close.

Maybe if he decided to just ignore whoever called his name, he'd still be able to leave. He closed his eyes and visualized the ice-cold beer with his name on it, and could virtually taste the liquid as he took that first tantalizing sip and it hit the back of his throat. The bitter aftertaste and the brief satisfaction –

"General O'Neill?"

His eyes snapped open, dark and threatening as he came face to face with Sergeant Allen. Not giving anything away, Jack was secretly pleased with himself when the officer suddenly paled and took a step back.

Allen had reached the rank of sergeant three months ago, but had only transferred to the SGC a week after Jack had taken over the reins. So, while the man had proved his worth to be stationed at the most secret facility on the planet, he was also still new enough at the base to not realize that he should have just left well enough alone when Jack was punching out for the evening. The General simply stared and watched as a thin line of sweat formed on Allen’s brow.

"Sergeant?"

"General, sir. Uh, Walter – uh, Sergeant –"

"Chief Master Sergeant," Jack cut in gruffly.

"Ah, yes, sir. Chief Master Sergeant Harriman is looking for you. Sir."

"Is he now?"

Allen nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And what does dear Walter want?"

The young man hesitated, not quite sure how to refer to the officer in question. "Uh... he mentioned something about a form requiring your signature, General."

Jack rolled his eyes. He figured as much. All he seemed to do over the past month was sign requisition forms for toilet rolls and ballpoint pens.

"I left Walter with strict instructions that I was heading home for the evening, Sergeant."

Allen nodded again, but slower this time. "Yes, sir, he mentioned that… but he also said that was before he realized he needed your signature. Something to do with an overhaul of the gate diagnostics and –"

He stopped abruptly when the General’s jaw tightened. "Colonel Carter requested the overhaul, sir."

"Of course she did." He sighed once more before he opened his arms wide and gave the Sergeant an exasperated look. "So, where is it?"

Allen frowned. "Sir?"

"The form, Sergeant. The form that is so important that it's coming between my very important social time," Jack finished with an exaggerated wave of his hand.

"Oh. Uh, Sergeant Harriman still has it, sir."

He let his head drop to his chest as he slowly and silently counted to ten.

"Umm... sir?"

"Where's Walter now? " he asked with a sigh.

"Control Room, sir."

Jack nodded absently, before he followed the younger man down the corridor.

"Remind me to thank Carter for this tomorrow," he grumbled.

* * *

It was another twenty minutes before Jack was able to make his way back to the elevator and attempt to go home, albeit in a much fouler mood than before his run in with Allen. He had just acknowledged the airmen on duty once again and stepped into the elevator when a female voice could be heard coming from further along the corridor.

"General!"

“Oh, for crying out loud!”

Jack slammed an index finger against the button to stop the doors from closing and bit back a curse. Any other time, he'd love nothing more than to see Carter, but since it was technically her fault that he'd been kept late, he was going to make this the exception. Choosing to be even more petulant, he remained inside the elevator. If she was looking him, she'd have to come to him. He was _The Man_ after all.

He waited on her approaching – and he waited, but when no blonde astrophysicist appeared, he frowned. He leaned forward when her voice drifted from around the corner.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm coming. I'm just signing out."

He nodded, even though she couldn't see, so he leaned against the wall of the elevator and waited. When Jack heard the sound of her footsteps hitting the metal floor beside him, he looked up and his eyes widened.

Carter was indeed signing out for the evening, because she was no longer in her BDUs, and she had obviously chosen her motorcycle as her means of transport for the day. She was dressed in her leathers.

And quite nice leathers too, Jack mused as his eyes travelled up and down her body.

"Sir?"

His gaze flew to Sam's at her question and he suddenly realized he'd been caught checking her out – and quite possibly drooling as well. He snapped his mouth shut as she continued to stare at him, slightly confused.

"Is everything OK, sir?"

He really wanted to say everything was more than OK, but instead he gave her a wide, fake grin and said, “Just peachy, Carter.”

When she smiled in return, he felt himself relax slightly.

The elevator doors closed and they started to make their way to the surface, and unlike him, Sam seemed to be paying no attention to the suddenly charged atmosphere as she fiddled with the cuff of her jacket. Her back was to him and Jack silently argued with himself to keep his attention on the elevator doors. Traitorously, however, he quickly found his gaze sliding to his left – to Carter. From the subtle scent of her strawberry and mint shampoo which had followed her into the elevator, to the way she held herself – standing tall and proud in her gear – to the way her tousled blonde hair teased the top of her collar and the material of the leathers framed every perfect curve in her body, including her oh-so-perfect –

"– exciting, sir?"

Jack involuntarily straightened. He'd been so lost in admiring Carter's ass that he hadn't realized she'd been speaking.

"Sorry, Carter. What was that?"

She stopped adjusting her jacket and turned. "I asked if you had any exciting plans for this evening."

Without thinking, he gave her another quick onceover before he forced his attention back to her slightly flushed face. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh... pizza. Beer. The Simpsons," he stated with the most casual shrug he could manage. "You?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Oh, I was actually going home to do the same, sir. Well, just without The Simpsons," she grinned.

The elevator came to a stop and Jack gestured for her to go first as the doors slid open at the surface. She smiled her thanks and they made their way across the parking lot. As they neared their respective vehicles, Sam turned to face him and he suddenly realized he didn’t want to say goodnight just yet.

"Y'know, I was thinking –" He started, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Why don't you join me – for pizza and beer?"

Sam's eyes widened and he tried to ignore how surprised she seemed to be at his proposal.

"It's been a while since we've just... hung out," he added with an awkward grin. "Since I've been made ‘The Man’ and all."

"Sir, I – thank you, sir, but –" she winced and when she shook her head, Jack was just about to tell her to forget he’d asked, when she narrowed her eyes. "Will you make me watch The Simpsons?"

"You don't know what you're missing."

Looking unconvinced, she smirked when Jack rolled his eyes and relented. "Fine! No Homer or Marge – I promise."

Finally, Sam’s skeptical expression disappeared and she treated him to one of those megawatt smiles. Jack swore his heart stopped beating.

"OK then, sir. If I meet you at your house, say –"

"In thirty?"

Sam nodded. She pulled her helmet on and mounted her bike, while Jack stood and traced her movements, not bothering to hide his grin as he admired her leather-clad six one final time.

Still grinning, he reached his truck and jumped in.

Some days it did pay to punch the clock late after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't decide what holiday to pick for today as there were two that stood out... so there's a bonus chapter on its way!


End file.
